


in which cherri cola is me after showing someone my writing

by Starful_nights



Series: Paradise Motel Week [3]
Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26522650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starful_nights/pseuds/Starful_nights
Summary: paradise motel week day 3!the title basically says it all
Series: Paradise Motel Week [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925161
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	in which cherri cola is me after showing someone my writing

“...and look up to the skies. And with that concludes today’s poetry corner, killjoys. This is Cherri Cola, signing off.”

Cherri turned his microphone off and sighed.

“Not proud of that one.”

“Y’should be,” Pony said, skating up behind him. “All that stuff about explosions...loved it.”

“Pone, you love all of my poems involving explosions.”

“True. Still, it was a good one, darlin’.”

“No! The neon explosions bit sounded all wrong.”

“That was my favourite part,” fae said. “An’ now it’s not good?”

Cherri nudged faem. “Stop pulling that fake offended face. ‘Ts just a poem.”

“No such thing as ‘just a poem’ and you know that,” D said from the door. Cherri started. He always forgot that those two were always lurking around him somewhere when he said his poems.

“Yeah. I know. But this one wasn’t that good, still.”

“I think it got the message across well. I’m worried about that Val kid,” D sighed. “So reckless and in no good way, either.”

“That one kid from his crew, the...Ultra Vs, I think? Usually listens to my poetry, so maybe he'll talk to Val."

“Maybe. Haven’t seen anyone talk sense into him yet, though.”

“This jingly kid is close to him, though. Pony, what’s his name?”

“It starts with a V.”

“Pony,” Cherri said warningly, seeing D grin in the edge of his vision.

“Uh...Volume? He’s the one with the bracelet made of bells.”

“Yeah. Him. The...spiky pink hair.”

“Purple.”

“Magenta.”

“Purple! D, why’d you let this colourblind poet near me?”

“He’s useful.”

“Thanks,” he said, eyebrows raised.

“We love you, Cherri, don’t worry, even though you can’t see colour apparently.”

“I haven’t seen Volume in ages!”

The two dissolved back into bickering and for a moment, all was well.


End file.
